


true love hurts, but this could kill me

by venomedveins



Series: Fire Starter [14]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Fighting, Fire, M/M, Mentions of non-con, Strippers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 14:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3211811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomedveins/pseuds/venomedveins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything comes to light, and both Agron and Nasir must make choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	true love hurts, but this could kill me

Red strobe lights sweep along the stage, dancing along the black curtain and audience. The men in the front are half cast in shadow, just their gleaming open mouths illuminated - teeth sharp and glinting. They look like some sort of beasts, ready to grab and devour the three dancers on stage. 

Nasir tries not to look at them, reducing his mind to just a blank slate. He can feel the weight of the firemen's jacket he's wearing pulling him down. He has no idea how Agron wears this every day, it's suffocating with a thick scent of sulfur and ash clinging to the Nomex. 

He knows he's going to have to give it back soon. Agron brought it over for some roleplay they tried out and it's technically city property. It'll go in the box with all of Agron's t-shirts and dvds and stupid coffee mug with the brass knuckles handle. Every little piece of Agron that Nasir had and will never be able to keep. 

Nasir doesn't want to think about it now, knowing if he does then he's going to end up breaking down. Nothing says sexy like a crying stripper, right? He can still feel the thick press of Agron inside of him from a few hours ago, hips tingling when he thinks of Agron's palms on them, fingers leaving bruises in places he can't even see. It was so good, so fucking perfect, and now all that is left is the reminder of Agron's blazing eyes when Nasir was forced to end it. Duro's gasps and Agron's growls as Nasir had fled the scene, ran away like he always does. 

The song begins and Nasir nods a little at the dancers on either side of him. They're dressed in metallic red shorts – fire themed. Nasir sometimes wonders if Ilythia and Lucretia just draw them out of a hat sometimes, wanting each night to be something new and different. No one talks about the whole week where they were forced to dress up as Disney characters – though Nasir made a pretty convincing Jasmine. 

Dropping his jacket to the side, Nasir moves to the bass of the song, teasing a hand along his spandex shorts. They're black and open in the front, cut down in a deep v, and held up by thick yellow suspenders. He tries to just focus on the music, keeping pace with his hips and grinding up against the floor, making his way to the pole. 

He slicked himself up with baby oil before he came out so it's an easier glide, spreading his legs and blatantly humping the floor. The men directly in front of him stare wide eyed, trying to reach out and touch his skin, but Nasir is a veteran of this game and rolls away, sliding into a split to avoid them. He'll accept their money, their drinks, but he'll never want them. Never need to touch them like they seem to fantasize about him. 

He finally reaches the pole, pulling himself up with a full body roll, grinning at the crowd. They cheer him on, and Nasir can barely see anyone past the front tables, but it feels like the room is stifling, breathing coming in short little gasps. Spinning around helps him clear his mind. Nasir focuses on the pull of his muscles, the strain in his back from where he didn't stretch as much as he should have. It helps center him, smear his mind away from the salivating crowd and the intense, curling pain in his chest whenever his mind subconsciously strays to Agron. If he could stay apathetic and numb for the rest of his life, Nasir would. 

A patron offers him a shot and a twenty, and Nasir takes it without thinking, trying not to grimace as the cheap vodka slides down his throat. He's technically not supposed to accept drinks from people, but sometimes it helps to get the crowd going, lets them feel involved. 

Working his suspenders down, Nasir plays with the top of his shorts, letting the crimson elastic band of his jockstrap peak out. He wishes tonight wasn't fire themed, wishes he didn't have to wear this, wishes he was in Agron's bed right now laughing about some dumb thing Duro did or Pietros said. Instead, it feels the whole world is out to remind Nasir what he's done – what sins he's committed. 

The jock strap is s a new requirement that Ilythia has for him. People want to see his ass, full out, and though he hates it – feels too exposed, too bare, it's not like Nasir can really say no. It's part of the job and he just can't seem to get back to tattooing yet. He wants to, but he doubts now – with the heavy platinum and diamond band now on his finger – if he'll ever get to again. 

Nasir is just stepping out of his shorts, bending over to show the crowd just a hint of shaved skin, when a thick hand suddenly wraps around the back of his arm. He cries out, trying to yank away only to have himself lifted from the stage and promptly set on the floor, being half dragged half carried away from the swarm of men. They protest loudly, and Nasir agrees, turning to shout at his assailant, when the words dry up on his tongue. 

“Agron!” Nasir gasps, eyes going huge as he tries to wiggle away. It's no use though, Agron's massive hand grips hard enough to bruise Nasir's bicep, eyes seeming to glow in the dark as he shoves through the crowd.

Nasir can see around Agron's large shoulders that both Duro and Auctus are trailing behind him, Duro's thumbnail caught between his teeth. 

“What are you doing? Let me go!” 

Nasir hastily waves to Segovax when he begins to head over, letting the bouncer know everything is okay. The last thing Nasir needs right now is Asher coming out of the office and starting a scene. He'll be in trouble for ending his set like that, but Nasir will make up some lie about it, pretend it was some guy wanting to talk to him about tattoos or that Nasir owed him money.

Agron knows where he's going, having been here enough, and it's only moments before he's yanking the backdoor open, shoving Nasir out into the dark alleyway. Nasir backs away from him, stopping when he reaches the other wall. Standing here in the dark, cold Spring evening, he suddenly seems to realize how naked he really is, wrapping his arms around himself and staring up at Agron. 

He doesn't look like himself, mouth set in a deep snarl and eyes narrowed. He seems huge, looming above Nasir with a heaving chest even as he yanks his leather jacket down his arms, noticing the goosebumps all over Nasir's skin, shivering in the pale streetlamp light. Agron wraps the leather tightly around Nasir, gently but firmly making him put his arms through the sleeve before zipping it up. It covers him mostly, hiding away his body from the chill and any prying eyes. 

“Nasir,” Agron growls out and it sounds like he's barely being able to contain his rage, voice shaking on the middle consistent, “You-”

“Agron, wait,” Duro gasps, finally having made his way through the crowd to join them outside. 

“Maybe this isn't the time and place for this,” Auctus adds, hovering beside Duro in the club doorway, “Let's let Nasir finish his shift and maybe we can talk about it after we get some sleep. Everyone must be exhausted.”

“What is going on?” Nasir murmurs, half hating himself for subtly burying his nose in the collar of Agron's jacket, trailing his gaze between the three men. 

“Why don't you tell me?” Agron suddenly snaps, attention never wavering from Nasir's face, “Why don't you just admit to all the lies you've been telling me over the past few months? Finally tell me what the fuck has been going on.”

“Agron if this is about the break up,” Nasir starts, only to freeze on the words as Agron shakes his head, scoffing

“You know what this is about.” He moves closer with the words, staring down at Nasir with an unrelenting glare. Nasir has never felt more naked, bared open and wide for Agron's fury, seeing all his carefully laid lies and plans falling apart. 

“Wh-” Nasir tries for words but the fail him, fisting the lining of the jacket between clenched fingers. 

Agron lays his heavy hand down on Nasir's shoulder, preventing him from running like Agron knows he wants to. This is it, this is when everything needs to come to light, when Agron can finally piece together the fragments that his life has been in for months. 

“When you broke up with me, you told me it was too much. That you couldn't handle how much pressure I was putting on you. I was expecting too much of you. I understood, I respected that. We did move quick and you were new to dating. I got too infatuated too quick and you responded to it. We should have slowed down.

So I stepped back, I gave you room to breathe. You came to me when you wanted me and I came when I knew you wanted me to. We agreed to be fuck buddies, but it was never just sex. Too addicted to one another. We never could just fuck. You know it wasn't that. Every time you hold onto me, look at me like that, I could see it. I know you Nasir, I know you better than you think I do. I have spent hours learning and memorizing everything about you. I knew for fucking months how you felt.”

Nasir flinches, recognizing the truth in the words. How many times had Nasir choked on the words? Had to keep his confession of love back, hidden, because he was too afraid to finally just say it. He wishes he could just wrap himself up in Agron's arms now, heal them and hide them away from the world, but all he has is the weight of Agron's jacket and his own guilt pinning him in place. 

“I never meant to hurt you,” Nasir finally murmurs, wanting to lower his gaze but he's held captive by Agron's, “I never meant to cause you any pain. I was trying to save us both.” 

Agron seems to struggle with the next words, trying to find how to phrase it, before continuing. 

“You were afraid of me, scared I was too violent and too angry. So when your phone went off one day when you were in the shower and I saw the fucking texts from Caesar, I didn't do anything. I didn't want to fully scare you off, even though it was killing me. Fucking torture. Do you have any fucking idea how many times I wanted to just go fucking kill him? Hurt him like he fucking hurt you? How many times I would lay next to you, touch you, and pray that you weren't going to go back to him. You weren't going to fucking be that fucking stupid.”

He steps closer again, looming high and dangerous above Nasir. Agron's whole body is shaking with contained rage. He's mad at everyone, at Caesar for causing it, and Nasir for not trusting Agron enough to tell him, and Auctus for knowing, and for Spartacus saying to give it time, but he blames himself above everyone else. He should have fucking just risked it, saved Nasir and himself from months of pain. At the same time, Nasir should have known he could come to Agron. Agron would have taken care of him. Would have figured out a way to make this whole thing disappear. 

“Agron please,” Nasir shakes his head, desperately wrapping his hands in Agron's shirt, “You have to understand.”

“I know about the threat,” Agron explains bluntly, “I know why you let him control you, listened to him. You should have fucking told me, told me that day instead of coming over like it hadn't happened. I could feel it, always can with the way you touch me different, cling to me like you're afraid it's going to be the last time. ”

Nasir's eyes widen, trying to backtrack to figure out how this could have happened. Nasir had been so fucking careful, so aware of everything and anything he was doing while near Agron. How could he have let this happen? How did he give it away?

“You were really high and possibly drunk,” Auctus speaks up from the doorway, “You thought I was Agron and you kind of just blurted it out.”

“What?” Nasir turns to look at him, eyes widening. 

“I'm sorry. I had to tell him. It was getting out of hand,” Auctus explains, accepting Duro's comforting arm around his waist, “Too many people were getting hurt.”

“You should have told me,” Agron repeats, turning Nasir's head back by his fingers cupping his jaw.

He's still angry, towering over Nasir like a tight coil, ready to lash out at the first provocation. Agron's hands are sweaty, fingers firmly keeping Nasir in place. He is in control, but it's barely contained, almost like a beast is sliding under the surface, begging to be released and it's only out of love and caring for Nasir that he doesn't unleash it. No, he'll save the fury, the detrimental storm for when he finally gets his hands around Caesar's throat. 

“I was trying to protect you,” Nasir whispers, bottom lip trembling. He feels like everything is falling apart, sliding out from between his fingers. He presses the pads of them to his eyelids, letting the cool skin soothe his stinging eyes. 

“What is that?” Agron suddenly bites out, reaching to grab Nasir's wrist. He stares down at the thick engagement ring, gleaming in the street lamps. It's big, too thick for Nasir's taste, and a whole new wave of fury bubbles up on Agron's chest. 

“Agron-” Nasir whimpers, trying to curl his fingers away and hide the ring.

“No,” Agron hisses, shaking Nasir slightly, “No fucking way. Over my fucking dead body.”

Nasir just gapes, wrist looking tiny in Agron's tight fist. He literally has no response, can't seem to get words out past the shame and fear. If he answers, he's scared this might be the breaking point. 

“Nasir,” Agron raises his voice, hands moving to cup his face, pulling Nasir closer, “I won't let you fucking marry him. No. This ends now. End of discussion.”

“And what happens when he presses the charges? What happens when he comes after you?” Nasir hisses, reaching up to place his hands over Agron's, “You don't know him like I do. You don't know what he's capable of, what his friends are capable of. I won't lose you like this.”

“Caesar isn't the only one with friends that can make shit happen,” Agron keeps his fingers where they are, leaning down a little to crowd into Nasir's space, “I'm not letting you go back to him to be fucking abused for the rest of your life.”

“It's my choice,” Nasir tries weakly, already feeling the resolve beginning to leave him. It's so nice to finally, fucking finally, just tell Agron everything. After so long of watching everything he says and does, Nasir can finally let it out, lean his weight into Agron and know Agron is strong enough to hold him. 

“It's not your choice anymore. Not when you are only making it because you think you need to protect me.” Agron's thumbs gently grace Nasir's cheekbones.

“I do need to protect you.” 

“Not in this.” 

Agron presses his mouth firmly against Nasir's, waiting for the other man to respond – puckering up against Agron's lips – before he deepens it. And how could he have ever considered living without this? Nasir fits so perfectly under his hands, tastes like everything that Agron loves and wants and needs, standing there in Agron's too big jacket and barely anything else, eyes watering behind long eyelashes.

“I'm sorry.” Nasir whimpers when he pulls back, eyes still closed, eyelashes a damp smudge against his cheeks. 

“I know,” Agron nods, kissing Nasir's forehead firmly. He knows this isn't the end of it, won't really be over until he's dealt with Caesar, but he can let the rage simmer inside of him for now. Taking care of Nasir has always been his first priority. 

“Go get your clothes on. We're leaving,” Agron commands softly, nudging Nasir towards the door, but the smaller man stops, widening his eyes. 

“I can't. Not yet,” Nasir shakes his head, “I need to think and Asher - he'll tell Caesar that I'm not here. Caesar will act on the charges. I can't-”

“Asher?” Agron asks, name ringing a bell in the back of his mind, but he can't place it.

“He's Caesar's spy, works in the office here,” Nasir wraps his arms around himself, “He films me for him. I caught him showing a video of me to one of the bouncers.”

“Duro,” Agron turns his attention finally to his brother, squaring his shoulders, “I want you to take Nasir back to our house and wait for me there.”

“Okay,” Duro agrees, seeing the severity in Agron's expression. 

Auctus goes to disagree, but stops when he notices the way Nasir has moved, clinging against Agron's side, head nestled against his chest. It's almost childlike, the way Nasir fits against him, clinging to Agron as if he's afraid he's going to leave him there. 

“Lock down. I'll be back in a few hours, need to do some shit.” 

Turning, Agron lowers himself down so he can meet Nasir's eyes, holding his face gently between his hands. 

“I'm going to go take care of this. Duro is going to go back to your dressing room with you and get your stuff. You're not coming back here, okay? Never again.”

“What are you going to go do?” Nasir asks, against his better judgment. There is a gleam to Agron's gaze, something he's never seen before. It's dark and coiling, making the emerald green around his iris seem to shift with malintent. 

“Don't worry about it.” Agron presses a lingering kiss to Nasir's mouth, rubbing their lips together, and Nasir melts against it, lets Agron's huge arms encircle him in safety. 

“Please be careful. Don't do anything that could get you hurt,” Nasir murmurs, holding Agron's face between his palms.

Smiling gently, Agron doesn't reply, just takes one of Nasir's hands in his own and kisses the palm before gently pushing him back into Duro's waiting arm. Duro nods at Agron, reassuring and committed to keeping Nasir safe as he gently guides him towards the backdoor again. 

Agron takes a moment to gather himself, square his shoulders and really consider what he's about to do. If he goes through with this plan, there is a chance that Nasir and himself will finally be free completely of Caesar – of the pain and the never knowing. Of the constant fear that Caesar brings with him. They can move forward with their life, maybe get a house or at least a dog, actually be able to live without constantly looking over their shoulder – expecting Caesar or someone else to just show up. 

It's not really a question of if he should do it, though the answer to that is clear, but can he do it? Will he do it for Nasir? Is Nasir the one that Agron is willing to throw his life away for?

Of course he is. Agron has never felt like this before, but he knows that it's not going away. Even if he never gets to love Nasir like he wants to, have him all to himself in a committed, lasting relationship - Agron needs and wants to protect him. He can't just let Nasir go back to Caesar, especially if he thinks he's doing it to save Agron's life. 

Pushing his way back through the club, Agron makes a quick scan of the security guards. There are two by the door and one at the curtain, but the cameras are mostly pointed at the stage and directly behind the bar. It'll be a tight fit but if someone needs to get out unseen, there is a path. 

Inching his way over, Agron leans casually against the wall leading to the office for a moment, letting a short guy in a hot pink thong slide by him with a wink, before Agron slowly opens the door. The room is completely dark save for the dozen mounted screens on the wall opposite the entrance. A desk sits before it, cluttered with wrappers and large Styrofoam cups of pop. There is an old looking money counter on one side and in front is a thick stack of twenties, tied together with a rubber band. 

The man sitting at the desk doesn't seem to notice Agron entering, holding a large phone in front of his face and recording one of the television screens. He's moved the security camera in one of the lap dance rooms, zoomed in to get a pretty HD shot of the stripper's ass. Agron wonders for a minute how many videos this creep has on there. Does he record all of them? How many times had Asher watched and recorded Nasir? Had he sent them to Caesar or had he kept some for himself to jerk off to?

“I've always wondered what it would be like to work behind the scenes here. All the naked guys running around, shaking their ass at the slightest flash of money,” Agron comments, having to raise his voice a little to get over the music blaring from outside.

“Who the fuck are-” Asher turns in his chair, stopping when he recognizes the man before him. 

“I take it I need no introduction?” Agron asks, walking forward a few steps. 

“No. You're the infamous Agron.”

“And you're Asher, the shit that clings to Caesar's heel.”

In the dark light of the television screens, Agron's face looks cut from granite. His scowl pulls down his cupid's bow into a deep line, jaw tense and teeth grinding. Even his body looks poised on the brink, shoulders wide and tense, hands curled into tight fists against his sides. His arms bulge out of the t-shirt sleeves, thick veins twitching in his forearms. 

“I am his assistant, and Nasir's bodyguard in case shits like you get the wrong idea about him.”

Asher staggers to his feet, staring up at the other man with a cruel smirk. Agron has to admit it's pretty humorous that Asher thinks he's in control of this situation, trying to stand wider than what he is – comparing himself in size to Agron's impressive form.

“I'm sure Caesar would be very curious why you are here harassing his fiance.”

“Harassing?” Agron raises an eyebrow, mock surprise on his face, “I think you have it backwards.”

“No, I don't,” Asher pulls his phone up, swiping his thumb across it. “Perhaps I should place some phone calls? Nasir isn't the only one in Caesar's radar, you know. I have seen your godson, cute. Would hate for-”

“Save your threats,” Agron shakes his head, “I'm not here to play your game or listen to you fucking yap on like the dog at your master's heel.”

His teeth glint in the light when he says the words, jaw clenched tight as he spits the words. He's done playing stupid fucking games with these people. Agron feels heat, the angry swirl of fury in his chest, suddenly move through him, making his palms sweat and bringing a tension to his neck, tendons tight.

“Then why are you here?” Asher asks, lowering his phone to put it in his pocket. 

Reaching over to the wall, Agron pushes his fingers into the little red block before yanking down the handle, a sudden burst of noise as the fire alarm fills the club. It's regulation for all businesses to have these. Crowding into Asher's space, Agron roughly grips his wrist, twisting it until he arches, staring up at Agron with wide, panicked eyes. 

A slow grin over takes Agron's face, widening his gaze until he looks crazed, resolving to finish this through. Asher can only gape, voice cut off as Agron's other hand wraps around his neck, squeezing tightly, cutting off air and hope of escape. 

“You're coming with me. I want to have a chat.”

 

\- - -

 

Mira wonders from time to time what made Spartacus decide to buy this building and then fill it with his friends. She loves seeing them, having Naevia over for tea in the early afternoons, babysitting Tielo when Saxa and Gannicus go out, and being able to call Duro or Lugo when she needs help fixing a tilted shelf or light bulb. Still, being accessible at all hours of the day and night has it's downfall, like now as she's yanked out of sleep by the heavy pounding on the front door. 

Pulling on her robe, Mira moves through the living room towards the front door, flipping on lights as she goes. Spartacus doesn't usually go to bed when she does, left sitting up either in the living room or the den to think and make plans. It's something that has taken her time to get used to, but even after five years of being together, Spartacus still holds some mystery to her. 

It's why she isn't even that surprised when he cuts her off, coming from the kitchen, and holding his hand up as he goes to the door. The clock on the wall read 3:27 AM, and Mira through her half sleep haze wonders if anyone in this building has any idea of what rude and okay times are. 

“Agron,” Spartacus greets, voice thick from lack of sleep and the hour, “What are you doing here?”

“I need your help.” 

It's not until Spartacus moves to let him in that Mira sees the water speckling Agron's shirt, moisture clinging to his thick boots. She hadn't heard it raining earlier but maybe he had been caught in a surprise shower. Those things are known to happen in New York. 

Stepping into the house, Agron nods at Mira and his face catches the hall light. There is something strange about his expression, the same crazed look Mira has seen numerous times when Agron is about to lose his temper, yet this is a redness high on his cheeks, jaw taught so that the tendons in his neck stick out. He seems more imposing, so much bigger when he stands to full height after taking off his boots – sand clinging to his ankles. 

Mira didn't meet Agron until after he was part of the FDNY, but she has heard the tales of what Agron was like in his youth – violent and easily swayed to anger. She wonders if this is what he always looked like, if this hidden fury is now bubbling to the surface.

“Do you want some tea? Or a beer?” Mira asks, unsure of what else to offer, but knowing they are both going to be up for a while. 

“Maybe some coffee?” Spartacus requests, gently squeezing her elbow as he moves through the house, leading Agron into the dining room. 

When Agron passes Mira, he gives her a slight smile but it doesn't reach his eyes, brows furrowed low and body tight. She wonders what else could have possibly happened to make Agron like this, after all the shit he's already been through in the past few months. She doesn't blame Nasir exactly, but she knows that he is the reason Agron has been acting strange. Reaching out to gently place her hand on Agron's bicep, Mira forces the large man to stop. 

“Are you okay?” she asks softly. 

“Yeah,” Agron nods, covering Mira's hand with his own, “I'm alright. It's not me this time.”

“Is it Nasir? Did something happen to him?”

Mira would be lying if she didn't admit to thinking something bad was going to happen, that she was going to wake up one morning and find that Caesar has hurt Nasir, beyond what they could fix. 

“Yes, but I'm going to take care of it.”

Agron pulls away slowly, smile still on his face as he moves towards the dining room. Mira doesn't know why but the words seem to twist in her head, repeating over and over, a swell of foreboding growing in her chest. She's never feared Agron before, but seeing him like this, she knows there is little to nothing that he won't do for Nasir.

Taking in the room, Agron takes a moment to situate himself, sitting across from Spartacus and listening to Mira padding quietly into the kitchen before he folds his hands before him. Agron isn't here to beg or plead. He knows what he has to do, knows the consequences, but of all the people on this earth, he can't see anyone understanding as much as Spartacus will. 

“Spartacus,” Agron begins, raising his gaze to meet the other man's, “Do you remember what you said to me when I was in the hospital? About how you would always help me protect the ones I love? My family?”

“Yes.” Spartacus leans his elbows on the table. “I would and I will.”

“I need that help now.” Agron continues, “This has gone on far enough and I won't live like this anymore – Nasir can't live like this anymore.”

“What do you want me to do?” Spartacus asks, a slow dread filling his chest. 

“I need your help killing Caesar.”

A gasp comes from the doorway, Mira holding two large mugs full of steaming coffee. The scent permeates the air, a warm and homely contrast to the cold and dismal feeling that descends upon the two men. 

“Agron-” Mira starts but he holds up his hand to stop her. 

“If I could do this without you, I would, but I can't.“

“Is there no other way?” Spartacus' brow is furrowed in concentration, mouth in a grim line. 

“No, there isn't. It's gone on long enough. The only reason that Nasir even broke up with me in the first place is because Caesar threatened to have me incarcerated.” Agron explains, taking the mug from Mira's trembling hands. “He was trying to protect me.”

“So you're doing this for your safety?” Mira murmurs, coming to sit at the head of the table. Her fidgeting hands ending up holding her elbows. 

“No,” Agron shakes his head, leaning back heavily in his chair. There is still an air around him, rage and finality, but he seems to relax just slightly as he goes on. “This is for Nasir. He'll never leave him, not really, too scared something is going to happen. It's not fair for him to live like this, always looking over his shoulder, getting threatened that something is going to happen to someone he cares about if he doesn't do exactly what Caesar says. I've tried protecting him on my own and it was never enough.”

“What about a restraining order? Get the law involved.” Mira offers, looking to Spartacus for support but only getting a glance in return for her efforts. 

“It won't be enough,” Agron takes a slow breath, sighing heavily. “He proposed to Nasir, forced a ring on him. If he goes through with it, we will never see Nasir again. This isn't about me wanting him for myself. This is about if we let Caesar have his way, there is a good chance the next time we hear about Nasir it will be in the obituaries.”

An eerie silence falls over the group, each staring at one another, contemplating. Agron knows he will go through with this regardless of the help, has to. The option was removed from his hands the minute he saw Nasir wearing Caesar's ring. Marriage isn't an end all be all, but Agron knows how this will work. He can't lose Nasir like this, all over him. The guilt would be too much to bear. 

Spartacus can't help the twist of fatherly instinct that takes over when he thinks about Nasir and Agron to some degree. He wants to protect them, make sure everything is okay, save them from their lives. Both of them have been through so much and now that they found each other, they shouldn't be torn apart like this. He can see Mira's face, see the same resolve swirling around in her mind. They have to do this, for Nasir and for Agron. 

“What's the plan?” Spartacus asks after a few moments, nodding to show his support.

“Spartacus! You can't be serious,” Mira whips her head to the side, eyes huge, “You're talking about murdering a man.”

“He's right, Mira. Caesar has been playing this game for too long and I can't and I won't stand by and watch Nasir or Agron suffer anymore. Nasir deserves freedom and the ability to make his own choices.”

Agron nods solemnly, reaching out a hand to clasp Spartacus'. He knows this is going to work. It has to.

 

\- - - 

 

The birds have started singing by the time the front door opens, sun threatening to crest over the horizon. Duro waits until he hears Agron enter the living room before he clears his throat, alerting the other man to his presence in the kitchen. When he enters, Duro wordlessly takes a long pull of his coffee, accepting Agron's greeting kiss to the side of his head. He's not mad exactly, just worried and frustrated at the situation. 

“What are you doing up?” Agron murmurs, nuzzling his nose against Duro's temple, breathing in the scent. 

“Wanted to see what took you so long,” Duro answers quietly, lifting a hand to massage into Agron's short hair, keeping him close. “Was worried.”

“Had some things to take care of. Told you that.” 

Agron trails his lips down the side of Duro's face, breathing against his ear before taking the lobe between his teeth. He knows it's Duro's weak spot, makes him melt every single time. Rubbing a hand down his chest, Agron flicks a nipple with this thumb, sliding further down until he trails his knuckles Duro's abs, a tease. 

Duro answers the attention with a gasp, tilting his head and allowing Agron more room to work, fingers tightening in his hair. Fuck, he can't figure out how Agron can instantly pull reactions from him like this, always knows just how to touch. It makes Duro's cock twitch hard in his sweatpants, almost begging to have Agron's hand slip lower. 

“You should be in bed, _Bärchen_.” Agron places one more kiss against Duro's cheekbone before pulling away, moving to the sink and filling a glass of water. 

"Where did you go?" Duro asks, trying not to sound accusing. "Nasir tried to stay up, but he ended up falling asleep on the couch. Auctus just put him in your bed. Figured you wouldn't mind."

"I had to go talk to Spartacus," Agron explains, leaning one hip against the counter, "Needed to figure out what to do. It's a complicated situation."

"And? What did you decide?" 

"Don't worry about it," Agron shrugs, "Enough about me. Tell me about you and Auctus."

Duro has known Agron his whole life, so it's easy to see when he's lying. Agron's eyes get narrower, mouth twisting sharply into a faked reassuring smile - sans dimples. Duro wants to press, needs to know if Agron is going to do anything reckless, but Duro knows even if he tries Agron will just dismiss him. He's always been like this, selfish and selfless at the same time with little regard to his own safety.

"We're um," Duro clears his throat, eyes straying to the thin section of skin that peaks out along Agron's hip as his shirt rises up, thick cut of muscle at the top of Agron's pelvis, "We're good. Super happy. Whole thing."

"I'm glad you're happy. It's a long time coming. Wasn't sure if you were going to get there but you did," Agron's smile is genuine, soft and dimpled.

"Yeah," Duro has to agree, "I know it's kinda fucked up right now but I'm glad you found Nasir too. I should uh, apologize for what I said about him. I was just upset you know, trying to be protective."

"It's cool. I get it." Agron lazily rubs his hands up and under his shirt, scratching at his stomach. "You should say that to him though. He likes you a lot."

"I'll talk to him," Duro promises, moving to place his mug in the sink. "It's weird though, isn't it? We finally ended up with people?"

"Yeah," Agron laughs, nudging Duro with his shoulder when he's close enough, "Scared you were going to get stuck with me for the rest of your life?"

"I don't know. Might not be so bad," Duro shrugs with a crooked grin, "Least we'd have the sex part down."

Agron laughs loudly, curling his body against Duro's side and kissing his cheek fondly. 

"We'll always have that." Agron stares at Duro out of the corner of his eye, “You ever tell Auctus?"

"Tell Auctus what?" Duro asks, playing for innocent, cutting his eyes. 

Agron sees right through it. With a smirk, he presses his body tighter along Duro's, sliding up behind him. Lips slipping along the soft curl of Duro's ear, Agron licks against the lobe, teasing him with soft, quiet pants against the flesh. He's trapped him against the counter, rubbing the thick line of his cock along the seam of Duro's pants, pushing between his cheeks.

"Tell him how you lost your virginity to your big brother when you were eighteen." Agron murmurs directly into Duro's ear, "How about the time we fucked so hard and for so long on our kitchen floor that the neighbors called the cops on us? Or how when you were thirteen you used to watch me work out in the barn and jerk off? And you thought I never knew."

Mouth gaped open, Duro turns to look at Agron in total disbelief. How is that even fucking fair that Agron can turn the game from brotherly teasing to something this intense, this inferno that spreads through Duro's chest and reddens his cheeks. Duro isn't all that surprised to find how hard he is just from Agron's words, body having been reacting for Agron for so long. Pressing his palms flat down on the counter, he arches his back, groaning quietly as Agron rubs against him harder, a tease and a promise.

“I take it that's a no?” Agron is so self satisfied, smirk wide on his face. Duro wants to be annoyed, angry at the power Agron is so aware of having, but all he can be is charmed. 

“I-I never knew how to bring it up,” Duro confesses, “I mean, how does one even go about that? I don't want him to think that we're still...you know.”

“Fucking?” Agron interjects, ego still gleaming in his expression,”Do you want to?”

“Agron,” Duro shakes his head, “That was a long time ago and just because we sometimes get drunk and make out-”

“I get it. We were desperate, alone. Both emotionally fucked up. It was summer, you had those shorts from Salvation Army,” Agron waves his hand around, pulling away from Duro, “the ones that were too short, could get my fingers inside of them and press right up against your hole.”

“That first time, when we were sharing that mattress,” Duro adds, slowly getting caught up in reminiscing 

“You were so scared, trembling when you rolled on top of me.” Agron nods, watching Duro's face closely. “So scared I was going to push you away.”

“But you didn't'.” Duro murmurs, “Pulled me down and kissed me like you had been dying to for days.”

“Years,” Agron adds, “it was our real first kiss, beyond what we used to do in the barn.”

“You remember the time Dad almost caught us?” Duro laughs a little, leaning closer to Agron, pulled like a magnet needing to be right up against him. 

“You mean the time you asked me to show you how to touch yourself?” Agron cuts his eyes towards Duro, watching the blush creep across his cheeks.

“I was thirteen! I thought it was a reasonable request,” Duro tries to defend himself but they both know what the truth is. 

“You just wanted to see my cock.” Agron unconsciously reaches for it, adjusting himself in his jeans. The motion doesn't go unnoticed by Duro. 

“I wasn't disappointed.”

Agron takes it as an invitation, pinning Duro back against the counter with his hips. Teasing his knuckles up his abs, Agron leans forward to kiss him, bypassing the teasing pecks from before and presses his tongue needy and insistent into Duro's mouth. It's a furnace, hot and wet in the best way, lips chapped and rough. He's not breakable, tiny and easily manhandled like Nasir. Agron can push more with Duro, bend him further without the threat of breaking. 

Moaning, Duro fists the back of Agron's shirt, pulling him closer. He wants to pull off all the layers separating them, sink to the kitchen floor, and let Agron inside of him. Let his brother handle him in ways that only Agron really knows how to. An expert on pulling and pushing and controlling Duro's body until he gives over, gives it all up, and knows that Agron will take it. 

“Fuck!” Duro gasps, pulling back after a moment, nearly beaming himself on the cabinet behind if it weren't for Agron's hand in his hair, “ _Bär_ , I can't.”

“Sure you can,” Agron smirks, leaning forward to lap gently at Duro's bottom lip, “Give in Duro. Let your big brother take care of you.”

“I love him,” Duro blurts out, one hand placed firmly in the center of Agron's chest, “I'm sorry.” 

“Oh.”

Agron nods, stepping back a few feet and wiping at his lips with the side of his hand. 

“Auctus, right. No, I get it.”

“Agron,” Duro murmurs, reaching out to wrap his arms around Agron's neck, pulling him into a tight hug, “You will always be my first. I love you more than anything else. You know that. But you're upset and you're looking for a way to ignore what's going on around you. I can't be that outlet.”

“No, I'm not. We were just playing. Go get in bed with Auctus.” Agron shrugs him off, turning back to the kitchen sink to refill his water glass. 

“It's totally normal for you to be upset, man. I mean, you just found out that the guy who you thought didn't love you or care about you has been lying for the past six months to keep you out of prison. That plot twist isn't easy.” Duro rubs his hand along Agron's tensed shoulders, trying to sooth him. 

“It's whatever,” Agron takes a long pull of his drink before adding, “I'm over it.”

“You're not and you shouldn't be. You need to talk to Nasir, actually talk to him. Find out where this puts you and if he lied to you about anything else.” Duro leans his nose into Agron's hair, kissing the side of his neck, before pulling away. “I love you, Agron. I only want what's best for you.”

“And is he?” Agron spits bitterly, looking over his shoulder at his brother, “Is he the best for me?”

“I don't know,” Duro shrugs helplessly, “All I know is that the minute Nasir started coming around, it was the first time since that first summer here that you looked actually happy.”

Agron doesn't reply, just turns back to stare into the sink. Duro leaves him alone, figures he can handles his thoughts and there is very little that Duro can do more. He's going to eventually crack, give in, and go to Nasir. Duro can only do so much. 

 

\- - - 

 

Silently padding into the bedroom, Agron peels his t-shirt over his head and tosses it towards the hamper. Nasir is curled up on his side of the bed, wearing his own pair of sweatpants and a tank top. It's weird to see him wearing clothes, especially his own, but Agron chalks it up to Nasir feeling weird about being in there. They're not technically together, still broken up, and Agron figures if Nasir is being weird about this then he probably should just go sleep on the couch. 

He's stripped down to his underwear when Nasir stirs, groaning quietly before blinking his eyes open. He seems confused at first, licking his lips and looking around before he spots Agron, freezing. 

“Hey,” Agron greets, reaching into his drawer to pull out a pair of gray sweatpants, the FDNY logo on the corner. 

“Hey, when did you get back?” Nasir pushes himself up on his elbow, long hair cascading over his shoulder and onto the bed. His voice is small, shy almost, and it makes Agron want to curl up against him, kiss his forehead and tell him everything is going to be okay. 

“Few minutes ago. Go back to sleep,” Agron soothes, reaching onto the bed to grab his pillow. 

“Where are you going?” Voice tinging on a little frantic, Nasir pulls himself up, leaning on his hand. 

“I was going to sleep on the couch,” Lamely, Agron motions to the door with his thumb, “You can take the bed.”

“It's your bed though.” Swinging off the blankets, Nasir stands, “I'll take the couch. You're too tall for it anyways.”

“No, you're stressed out and I'm sure you're tired. You go ahead.” Agron shakes his head, inching towards the door. He's closer and he could technically get out before Nasir could, flop down and claim the terribly, lumpy, and too short couch for himself, but he stops when Nasir's bottom lip trembles. 

“Please, I don't want to be a bother. Let me take it.”

“You know what, how about this – neither one of us are going to get any sleep if we take the couch. It doesn't have to be weird, we can just share the bed. It's not like it's the first time we've ever slept together.”

Agron tries to ignore the cute and high colored blush that stains Nasir's cheeks as he drops his eyes to the floor. Sleeping is probably the most innocent thing they've ever done in this room.

“Alright.”

They get back into bed silently, Agron sprawling on his back and Nasir curling up on his side, facing Agron. There is a gap between them, barely a foot but it feels like it stretches for a mile. It's never been there before, usually they lay together with Nasir curled up on top of Agron, head on his chest and fingers curled along Agron's ribs. 

Laying there in the dark, the only noise in the room is Nasir's quiet breathing. Agron has always been a silent breather, and listening to Nasir is lulling, soothing in a way that he hasn't felt in a long time. The cusp of the storm is just beginning, but in this moment, both of them are safe, secure within the stronghold of Agron's room. 

“Agron?” Nasir whispers after a while, huge eyes gleaming in the dark. 

“Yeah?” Agron resists the urge to turn and look at him. 

“I'm sorry that I lied to you and I hurt you. I never wanted it to be like this. It killed me every time, but I'm not sorry that I protected you. You always get to be the strong one, the one that everyone expects to come to the rescue. I just wanted to save you for once,” Nasir leans back up, reaching over to gently stroke Agron's cheek, forcing the older man to look at him. 

“Why couldn't you just tell me? We could have figured it out instead of spending months torturing each other,” Agron's fingers curl around Nasir's on his face, gazing up at him, “You lied to me, so many times, right to my face.” 

“Because you would have rushed in and gotten yourself hurt. Your temper would have gotten the best of you and even if you somehow convinced Caesar - through force or violence - to leave us alone we never really would be free. You would be punished for trying to get rid of him and would have ended up in jail anyways. I couldn't let that happen.” Nasir explains, the fight seeming to slowly die down as he watches Agron's expression. He had convinced himself for months that this was the best route to take in the situation, but now, this close to someone he loves, wants more than anything in this world, it really just hurts.

“There is nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for you,” Agron growls, temper just rising from the truth behind Nasir's words. 

“I know, and that's why I couldn't tell you. I have to be with Caesar. I have to make that sacrifice. It's the only way,” Nasir leans down to gently press his lips to Agron's, drawing out the chaste kiss until he has to pull away, the feeling too much, “I love you enough to do this for you.”

“Nasir, it doesn't have to be this way. How can you just go back to being abused like that? You just expect me to sit by knowing what he's going to do to you? You go to him and I will never see you again.” Agron fights, curling his hand in the back of Nasir's hair to keep him close, “I won't let that happen. I can't.”

“Agron-” 

Nasir begins only to be cut off again as Agron pulls him down, kisses him like he's dying, cradling Nasir's face between his wide palms. Agron drinks in the taste of him, the cinnamon scent that bites at his nose but is addicted, ensnaring all of Agron to respond, to claim and keep close. This is all Agron has ever wanted, secretly in the dark corners of his mind. He won't let this go, already half way into this plan, even if Nasir doesn't know it. 

“I love you,” Agron groans as Nasir crawls on top of him, straddles his lap so he can get to Agron better. 

“I love you too.”

Tenderly, Nasir begins trailing kisses along Agron's chest, inching further and further down, belly button ring dragging cool and teasing along Agron's hips. And wouldn't this be fucking bliss? For this to be a nightly option? For Nasir to be able to let Caesar go, to have him forget all about Nasir and the ring on the beside table. Nasir wants to give into this, wants Agron's hands and body unraveling him once more, but the pain during the aftermath is too much. 

“Wait,” Nasir pulls away, feeling as Agron frees him from his tank top, the cold air raising goosebumps on Nasir's flesh, “I'm engaged and-”

“No, you're not.” Agron replies fiercely, spitting out the words around clenched teeth.

“Agron,” Nasir shakes his head, stroking Agron's jaw again, wishing he didn't have to fight this, “I am.” 

Gently tucking Nasir's hair behind his ears, Agron stares up at him, willing him to understand what Agron's gaze is truly saying. What Agron has done, just a few hours ago, to cement Nasir's freedom. He'll do it again in a few hours time.

“No.”

It's the word, the sureness, the ferocious loyalty and command behind it that makes Nasir shiver, thighs squeezing unconsciously around Agron's thick waist. He's so in control and Nasir doesn't ever have to wonder if he's going to fall, get hurt and unable to pick himself back up, when he's around Agron. Agron always has it covered, always knows what to do for Nasir. 

Nasir gasps when Agron suddenly sits up, pulling Nasir down and against him. They're eye level like this, sitting chest to chest, and the staring both causes them to hold their breath – suspended in time and space. It's Agron though that makes the first move, the first drag of his hand through Nasir's hair, cupping the back of his head firmly before tilting his head to the side. Agron's lips are like fire courses along the soft tendons and skin of Nasir's neck, biting and sucking and licking the flesh until Nasir's mouth falls open, crying out. 

“We shouldn't do this,” Nasir whimpers, fingertips digging into Agron's thick shoulders.

“When has that stopped us before?” Agron replies, hands sliding down the back of Nasir's sweats to grip his ass, “I want you, baby boy.”

“I want you too.” Nasir whines his confession, feeling the heat in his face, “So much.”

Agron can feel his cock between between the hot triangle of Nasir's thighs, pressed snug up against his ass. It's already heating up between them, sunlight beginning to peak through Agron's open curtains. The neighbors across the way can probably see them, but considering that Agron has fucked Nasir up against that window before, he doesn't really see the point in worrying about it. 

Reaching down, Nasir's quickly unties the thick string on the front of Agron's sweatpants, tugging him down his hips a little. He's just about to lower himself down, intent on taking Agron into his mouth, when he's suddenly over come by a monstrous yawn. It pulls his mouth wide, pressing it to the back of his hand as Nasir groans, turning his head away from Agron's chest. He wants to do this, so fucking much, but it's nearly five in the morning and Nasir isn't sure he's going to make it through the sex without falling asleep. 

“Oh baby,” Agron teases gently, pulling Nasir up caress his cheek, “You're so tired.”

“I'm not. I'm okay,” Nasir shakes his head, curling his fingers in Agron's waistband. 

“No, come on. It's not going to be any fun for either one of us if you fall asleep with my cock in your mouth,” Agron's grin is all dimples, nuzzling the tip of his nose along Nasir's, “We can take a rain check.”

“We can't if-” Nasir's eyes stray to the large ring on the bedside table, biting his bottom lip. Agron swears if he could, he would throw that fucking engagement ring over the Brooklyn Bridge if it would make Nasir stop looking at it. 

“We will raincheck,” Agron swears, pulling Nasir down to hug him tightly, “We will rain check over and over again until you don't remember why we even needed to in the first place.”

Nasir gasps as Agron kisses his neck, allowing himself to be manhandled down until he's curled along Agron's body, back pressed tightly to his wide chest. Playing with his fingers for a moment, Nasir intertwines them with his own, pressing soft pecks to the thick knuckles on Agron's right hand. He feels so safe like this, enclosed in the tight and thick embrace of Agron's arms, feeling him breath into Nasir's long hair. 

Laying like this, Nasir protected against him, Agron can almost forget about the past months. He had found out about Caesar a month after Nasir had ended it. Agron had investigated, wanted to make sure that Nasir didn't have some other motive to end it all (considering the fiasco with the first time Nasir had ended it with Caesar), and had seen Caesar sneaking around the shop. It was a tough ultimatum. One one hand, Agron could have said something, put an end to all of it right then and there by scaring Caesar off, but that would have just proved Nasir's reasons for breaking up with his valid - the fear of the intensity and Agron's anger. In stead, he had been forced to watch and wait, praying that Nasir was only seeing Caesar as a means to reconfirm why he wanted to be with Agron. 

It's not like Agron just left it at that. He used the opportunity every time he saw Nasir to check him out. He would look for bruises, scratches, the wide spread fear that grows in his eyes every time Caesar is around. When they started fucking, Agron got even more opportunity to look. He'd lay Nasir on his back, caress his sides and let his eyes check – nothing marring Nasir's beautiful skin, no shudder in his touch, no fear. 

The whole thing, the months of barely being anything in Nasir's life, were torture to Agron. It killed him every time he had to walk out of Nasir's apartment, when he had to lay next to him just like this and feel Nasir cling to him. Agron had always suspected it was just fear – fear of commitment and love and true care – that had scared Nasir off. If he had just known, if he had come across as someone who could handle this type of information without going crazy – then none of this would have happened. 

Easing his hands along Nasir's ribs, Agron caresses him, cuddling close along his back. He had secretly begged Auctus to make sure that Nasir was eating during the break up – so prone to falling to wine and cigarettes when he was upset. Telling Auctus to reach out, make sure that Nasir was okay. Agron couldn't be in that position anymore, but he wanted to make sure someone else was. 

It makes Agron feel guilty now, thinking of what Duro said in the kitchen. When he had gotten into bed with Nasir, he hadn't thought and though Nasir is in a vulnerable state right now – so is Agron. They can't keep trying to fix everything with sex. It's not going to work. He's content to just lay here like this, be comforted by Nasir's presence and physicality. 

Rolling onto his other side, Nasir nuzzles his nose along the sharp cut of Agron's collarbone, trailing down until he's tucked his face into the soft crease of Agron's chest and arm. Here, in the dark, Nasir can only smell Agron – fill his lungs with his musk and get drunk on it – let it wash over him like a warm blanket, marking him as Agron's. 

It's not long before the deep breathing lulls them both to sleep, consumed by one another and the oasis of their time spent together – the still strong safe haven from the shit of their lives. 

 

\- - - 

 

Nasir drags the comb methodically along his hair, pulling the strands over to one side. It drips onto his lap a little, long black tendrils that leave a wet mark on the top of his harem pants. He wonders how short Caesar is going to make him cut it, if he'll have to keep it close cropped or let it grow at least to shoulder length again. He's been growing it for so long that Nasir can't really remember what he looks like with short hair. That is, of course, if Nasir can somehow convince Agron that he shouldn't get involved, and considering the conversation from last night, he doesn't think it's likely.

He's so deep into thought that he doesn't hear Agron come in behind him, snaps back into the present when his warm lips press against Nasir's bare shoulder. Agron wraps his body around the back of Nasir, teasing his mouth along the curl of his ear, nuzzling against him. It makes goosebumps break out across Nasir's shoulders and arms, shivering as he leans back against Agron's still dripping chest. 

“You never told me what this one means.” Large fingers curl along Nasir's hip, tracing the Arabic script there. 

“It's your name,” Nasir answers, seeing no point in lying now, “I wanted to keep a part of you, a secret part, all to myself when I thought we were never going to see each other again.” 

Hooking his hand on the back of Agron's neck to keep him close, Nasir continues, “I don't remember much of my home, before the foster care, but in some ways, you created a new home for me. You introduced me to Spartacus and the family and I found a new place to belong.”

“You will always belong here with us,” Agron soothes. He gently places his fingers at the tip of Nasir's chin, turning his head slowly. They're so close they are breathing the same air, and Agron swears he feels Nasir's eyelashes brush his cheekbones.

Nasir has spent countless hours looking at Agron, studying him, memorizing his odd little ticks and quirks. The way Agron looks when he's annoyed and mad and anguished and happy. The little flush he gets, eyes wide and a little crazy, when he's turned on. The dimples on his cheeks when he's cocky and teasing. The strange tilt to his head, vein in neck throbbing, when Agron is past the point of keeping his temper in check. Agron is a puzzle and a book that Nasir wants to keep watching, keep close and unfold him. 

Yet, Agron's eyes are unlike anything Nasir has ever seen. They're emeralds when Agron is sleepy, gleaming in moonlight. They're liquid fire, neons and chartreuse, when Agron is furious, teeth snarled in a growl. They're jungle and sea when he's this close, staring at Nasir like they will never move from this spot, close enough to touch and taste and become one with. 

“You are beautiful,” Agron whispers, caressing Nasir's jaw with his fingertips and Nasir has to disagree. Because no one can possibly compare to the beauty of the man before him. 

The moment is shattered seconds later as Duro flings the bedroom door open, slamming the knob back into the wall with a loud bang. It lets in the sounds from the rest of the apartment, music playing in the kitchen over the smell and sound of popping bacon.

“Agron, Sparta-Oh!” Freezing, Duro quickly looks up and away from the pair, flush staining his cheeks, “You're naked.”

“Nothing you haven't seen before,” Agron mutters, pulling his towel shut, annoyed at the interruption. “And we're not naked.”

“Not yet,” Duro mutters, fingers twitching nervously on the doorknob. 

Nasir giggles at the two of them, gently kissing Agron's temple as he stands, moving over to the dresser. Pulling out the top drawer, he begins to rifle through too big t-shirts and wadded up sweatpants, in search of some of his own clothes. He's not sure he's going to have anything here, but he might as well look.

“Spartacus is here,” Duro glances down, shameless staring at the cut of Agron's hips in that towel as he stands, “He wants to talk to you.” 

“Okay. We'll be out in a few minutes.” Agron raises his eyebrow at Duro, scratching absent-mindedly at his abs. It's not really a dare or a challenge, just an acknowledgment of Agron knowing what Duro is projecting. Duro drops his eyes, embarrassed at himself for the blatant lust written all over his face, and backs from the room in search of Auctus. 

“Why is Spartacus here?” 

Nasir glances over his shoulder as he shuts one drawer to pull open another. 

“Probably wants to get coffee before work.” 

Agron lies and it's not really a lie. Sometimes they do get coffee before work. Sometimes Agron and Spartacus go on morning runs together. This morning it's not going to be about friendship or camaraderie but the murdering of a man and his assistant, but it's not like they can't get coffee afterwards. After dating Nasir for over a year, Agron is able to admit to his coffee addiction. 

“Agron,” Nasir murmurs, turning his whole body to show Agron the contents of the drawer that he just has pulled open, “What is this?”

Between the cheap slabs of IKEA wood is a copious amount of jewelry – bracelets ranging in every color and texture, rings tangled with long chain necklaces, a coin covered headdress is caught on a long purple box – glinting gold in the dull light. There are a few other boxes too, velvet dusty on some of the corners, a Tiffany ribbon frayed on one end and the robin's egg blue box a beacon among the waves of silver and bronze. 

“I-” Agron hesitates, considers dropping his towel and trying to distract Nasir, but he doesn't know how well that will work, considering they had just fucked in the shower, “I bought them for you.”

“All of these are for me?” Nasir doesn't let his gaze move from Agron's face but his hand slowly caresses the metal. “But why?”

“I missed you and they reminded me of you and I figured I might as well just buy them.” Agron babbles, eyes widening as Nasir begins walking towards him, stopping to grip Agron's face between his palms.

“You are the most ridiculous man I have ever met,” Nasir teases through watering eyes, leaning up on his toes to kiss Agron, “Thank you.”

“You deserve nice things,” Agron mutters, accepting another peck for his words, “and they reminded me of you.”

An embarrassed flush slowly creeps across the bridge of his nose and onto his cheeks, making his freckles seem ever more pronounced. He tries to will it away – Agron is not prone to embarrassment – but with the way that Nasir is beaming at him, grin stretching across his face, the blush just seems to grow hotter. 

Leaning forward, Nasir moves to nuzzle Agron's chest, accepting the cold beads of water against his face, before implanting his sharp, little teeth into the curve of Agron's peck. It's not hard enough to draw blood, but presses sharp and quick enough to sting. 

“Ow! What was that for?” Agron pulls away, holding a hand over the red mark, cock twitching. It never ceases to amaze him how everything Nasir does turns him on. 

“You shouldn't have wasted all this money on me. Some of this is really expensive,” Nasir peeks into the drawer again, “How am I supposed to wear all of this?”

He pulls out a long gold chain dotted with rubies, a small clasp at the back. It's attached to an even longer chair with a loop on the end and Nasir realizes it's a necklace with a belt attached, covered in tiny, sparkling rubies. He wants to put all of it on suddenly, take his clothes off and listen to it clink together as Agron fucks him from behind – a thought that makes him subconsciously press back against Agron's towel covered crotch. 

“You don't have to wear it all at once,” Agron rolls his eyes, pressing against Nasir's back to peer over his shoulder, “How about wearing this?”

Agron pulls from the bottom of the pile a bundle of cords dotted with tiny charms – a horse shoe, a tiny pair of doves, a snake, and many others. It gathers in the back with a chain and clasp, though it's a little off colored from the rest of the metal, looking repaired. 

“Where did you find this?” Nasir gasps, staring up at the necklace. He hasn't seen it since Caesar yanked it from around his neck, chain breaking on the tattoo shop floor. 

“I have my ways,” Agron presses his grin against Nasir's hair, kissing it gently. 

“Put it on me.”

Nasir gathers his hair to the side again, allowing Agron to reach over him, placing the familiar weight of the necklace back down over his collarbones. It's odd, Nasir has to contemplate, how very soothing and safe he feels with this back on him, like the final piece of armor. He hasn't even considered reaching for Caesar's ring still on the nightstand, instead comforted by every piece of Agron that Nasir can slip on. Goosebumps scatter across his shoulders at the soft brush of Agron's fingertips on his neck, breath hot on his hairline, left trembling as they trail from his shoulders down his arms. 

“Perfect.”

Kissing the top of his head, Agron slowly pulls away, tossing his towel to the side. There is so much that he wants to tell Nasir, confess to him. He should tell him how it felt to have his fingers wrapped around Asher's throat, robbing him of air, and enjoying it. Agron had enjoyed the feeling of taking out his anger and frustration on someone who deserved it. Of eliminating one of Nasir's biggest threats. 

Instead, Agron pulls on clothes and watches Nasir dress out of the corner of his eye. He memorizes the plains of his body, the swirling ink and tiny bruises on the slopes of his spine. Agron can do this, can watch him because of what he's done – what he's about to do. 

“I've got to head home soon,” Nasir finishes braiding his hair, swinging it onto his back. 

“I can get Duro to drop you off,” Agron offers, trying to ignore the quick swipe of Nasir's hand to grab his ring off the bedside table. 

“No, it's okay. I don't mind.” 

Pulling on his shoes, Nasir turns to open the door only to be caught up in Agron's arms, drawn tightly to his chest. It nearly takes him off his feet, but Nasir relaxes in the thick arms, letting Agron steady him. Agron trails light, chaste kisses along Nasir's cheeks, pressing a lingering one to Nasir's lips, before gently bumping their foreheads together, grinning down at him. It's sweet and Nasir is left dazed but content. 

“What are you doing today?” Agron asks, arms sliding down Nasir's back to grip his ass. 

“I'm going to help Pietros pack and I'm supposed to have dinner with Caesar,” Nasir answers hesitantly, “He uh, he wants me to get a hair cut first though.”

Agron lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head, “No fucking way.”

“Agron,” Nasir sighs, only to stop as Agron shoots him a look. 

“You like your hair long,” Agron growls, “and if you like it, you should keep it.”

“But I'm with-”

“You're not with him!” Agron snaps loudly and Nasir recoils, only soothed back into calmness from Agron's hand pressing soothingly against his back, “I promise you, that nothing is going to happen to me if you tell him to fuck off. I have friends and I will handle this. Trust me. You need to tell Caesar you don't want to be with him though, okay? You have to make that stand.” 

He gently tucks Nasir's hair behind his ear, a loose strand fallen from his braid, a silent apology for raising his voice. Agron is just so tired of having this argument, of having Caesar be a constant fear in Nasir's life. He wants to abolish it and help Nasir find a safe place, somewhere that Nasir can live without fear and abuse. 

“All I've ever wanted was for you to safe.” Agron murmurs, “Whether that's with me or not, as long as you're away from Caesar.”

Nasir stares up at Agron, thinking it over. Does he really trust that Agron can handle this? It's possible to love someone and not trust them. But this is Agron – Agron who never gave up on Nasir, who always came back, who risked everything and is willing to again to keep Nasir safe. How can Nasir not trust him? After everything Agron has done. 

He's not afraid of Agron, not really. Nasir is more afraid of what Agron will do for him than what Agron will do to him. Nasir has never feared that Agron will hit him, hurt him in ways that weren't consensual and planned out. But it's what Agron is willing to do for Nasir – in his defense. Agron is protective, viciously, and he has shown that his loyalty often leads him to violence on someone's behalf. Nasir has overheard Agron's spitting threats at Auctus over Duro and Castus over him, heard from Donar all about the fight at the firehouse. It's what lead to Nasir making the deal in the first place, because Nasir knew that Agron would act in violence in Nasir's defense, would prove all of Caesar's claims correct. 

“Okay,” Nasir relents, deflating into Agron's strong grip, “I trust you.”

“You just have to tell him to leave you alone.” Agron murmurs, “I will take care of the rest.”

“But you have to promise me that you won't do anything dangerous. Don't do anything bad.” Nasir grips Agron's t-shirt, holding his attention. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

Agron lies and he is slightly disgusted with himself for looking Nasir in the eye while doing it. He keeps telling himself that he'll make it up to Nasir later, that he'll figure out a way to smooth this all out. After Caesar is gone and Nasir is free, then everything will be better. 

“I love you,” Nasir smiles, blinded by Agron's clearly shining devotion to notice the lie. He wants to believe it so he will. “I'll text you later after Caesar leaves.”

“Be careful,” Agron hugs him one more time before stepping back so they can open the door, “Just text me when he gets there, okay? So I know what's going on. And you can always call one of us if things get out of hand.”

“I'll be okay,” Nasir soothes, moving through the living room, “I've been dealing with him for a while, remember?” 

He pauses when he spots Spartacus, leaning on the kitchen counter with a grim expression, mug of coffee in hand. He nods in greeting to Nasir, but his expression is strained at best, mouth curved down in a thin line. Duro and Auctus linger behind him, peering out of the corner of his eye as the pair – judging both Agron and Nasir. 

“You're here early,” Spartacus comments, mouth pulling into that knowing little smile only Spartacus seems to be able to do. It's both fatherly and friendly at the same time – mirth and paternity. 

“Yeah I-” Nasir blushes, trying to make up some lie that will make his reason for being here more innocent. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't want Spartacus to think he just falls into beds.

“Yep, he is,” Agron kisses Nasir's head before clapping Spartacus on the shoulder, “Do you want breakfast?” He asks both of them but his eyes stay on Spartacus. 

“No, I'm alright.” Nasir heads towards the door, “I've gotta get going, promised I'd help Pietros. I'll see you all later.”

Agron goes to follow him, reiterate that Nasir has to let him know when Caesar gets there, but Spartacus' hand on his arm stops him. He shakes his head, allowing Nasir to flash them one more reassuring smile before closing the door with a soft click. 

“Did you have a chance to turn on the news yet?” Spartacus asks when Nasir's retreating footsteps are silenced by the stairs. 

“No, why?” Agron pours himself a mug of coffee, body beginning to tense.

“They found a body - washed up on Staten Island,” Spartacus goes on to say, “Some guy named Asher. No family or anything. Cops are chalking it up to suicide.”

“Never heard of him,” Agron shrugs, stirring cream into the dark liquid, “Sucks.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?” Auctus murmurs. He stares into space, trying to match a name with a person. He can't recall it, but it seems important. Something tickling at the back of his head. 

“I don't know, but I should get into the station,” Duro speaks up, reaching for his belt on the table. His gun fits like a heavy beacon against his hip, and Duro's fingers stroke the butt of it. He's only used it once and he hopes he'll never have to again. 

“We should too,” Spartacus gives Agron a look before heading towards the door. It's a warning look, an omen of more ominous things to come. 

“Agron?” Duro asks as they all move towards the exit, gripping his brother's shoulder, “Are you sure about this?”

“Everything is fine,” Agron ruffles Duro's curls, “I promise. We still having lunch?”

“Yeah. I'll swing by the house at eleven thirty,” Duro frowns, lacing his fingers with Auctus as he leads him out of the apartment. 

From down the hall, Agron can just make out his voice calling back faintly. 

“Wait, wasn't Asher the name of that creep that used to hang out around Nasir? Caesar's friend?”

 

\- - - 

 

“Nice of you to show up,” Chadara spits from the kitchen, wrapping long stemmed wine glasses in bubble wrap. Her hair is piled on top of her head, tiny curls hanging along her sweaty cheeks. Nasir instantly feels a wave of affection for her, remembering the tiny little girl who used to run around the apartment with him when their foster father passed out. 

“Hey,” Nasir cringes, shutting the apartment door, “I brought coffee.” 

He holds up a cardboard tray of Starbucks, grinning. Chadara still holds her glare as she moves over to him, yanking the vanilla frappacino from it's place. She takes one long gulp, a tiny dollop of whipped cream ending up on her nose, her fury seems to lessen a little.

“I haven't seen you in forever. Been having fun?” Chadara quips, scowling. 

“Chadara,” Nasir sighs, setting the container on the kitchen island, “I know I haven't been around but-”

“No. You haven't.” Chadara turns away, “The only person you've seen is Agron, and look how that has turned out. Every time you come around, you're crying over him.”

“It's not like that,” Nasir pleads, wishing he could somehow take back his actions over the past few months, “I'm sorry. I know I haven't been the greatest friend, but-”

“Nasir!” Pietros chirps, coming out of his bedroom and interrupting the two, “Is that for me?”

He takes his own beverage, kissing Nasir tenderly on the cheek in greeting. Pietros doesn't have it in him to be angry with Nasir. He's his best friend, a brother really, and after everything that they've both been through – Pietros can't leave him like this. He knows something has been weighing on him, something that Nasir can't talk about, and though it hurts – if Agron can give him the comfort that Pietros can't, than that's something Pietros is going to have to live with.

“You're back,” he leans his arm on Nasir's shoulder, a teasing move due to Nasir's shortness, and for once the shorter man allows it. “I was scared the big German had swallowed you up.”

“Not lately,” Nasir smiles weakly, sipping from his drink. That's technically true, considering that Agron and him had fucked in the shower this morning. Agron pressing him against the cold tile, fingers buried inside of him even before Nasir had gotten completely wet from the warm spray. Nasir's legs trembling as Agron had slid in, fucking him up on his toes. 

“That's a shame,” Pietros frowns, teasing his fingers along the tips of Nasir's hair, “You seem upset. What's wrong?”

“I've been meaning to talk to both of you.”

Nasir pulls away to sit up on a stool, sheepishly swinging his feet. He doesn't know how to have this conversation, not really. He didn't even get to start it with Agron – Auctus being the one to finally break the news of Caesar's threat on them. 

“What's wrong?” Chadara asks, sour expression turning at the sadness in Nasir's tone. 

“Well,” Nasir takes a deep breath, deciding he might as well just get it all out now. 

“Caesar has been black mailing me. He threatened that if I didn't break up with Agron, he'd find a way to put Agron away. When I tried to resist him, he threatened the rest of you. That's why I've been so distant lately. I couldn't stand lying to all of you but I couldn't tell you either.”

“What?” Both Pietros and Chadara share a wide eyed look. 

“What are you talking about?” Stepping forward, Pietros grips Nasir's hand, “Why didn't you tell us? We could have helped you. Fuck, I hate that creep.”

“Does Agron know?” Chadara hisses, eyes narrowing, “Did he allow this to happen?”

“Agron didn't know until yesterday,” Nasir rubs his face with his hands, sighing loudly. “I don't know how he found out. Auctus figured it out and told him I guess. I never told him. He just showed up at Ludos and pulled me down from the stage.”

“He pulled you off the stage?” Pietros cries, eyes widening. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No, of course not.”Nasir rolls his eyes. “It wasn't like that. Agron has never done anything like that.”

“But-” Chadara begins.

“He's never hurt me unless I asked him to hurt me.”

Nasir glares at her until she relents, sighing. There is no fighting with Nasir when it comes to defending Agron.

“Okay, kinkiness aside, what is going to happen now? Now that he knows?” Pietros slurps loudly on his straw. 

“I'm going to break up with Caesar.”

Nasir says it so bluntly, like he actually believes that it's going to be this simple. That he'll be able to look into the eyes of the man that truly terrifies him, scares him enough to make him stay with him for months, every single day torture. He has to be strong in this, has to have more courage than he ever thought he could – for himself and for Agron. 

“Just like that?” Pietros' raises an eyebrow. 

“Just like that.” Nasir confirms. “What else am I supposed to do? I can't live like this anymore. Never knowing when I'll see my friends, hurting them and lying to them. I've wasted so much time trying to protect everyone when really, all I was doing was causing more pain.”

“I wish you could have told one of us,” Chadara sighs, wrapping an arm around Nasir's thin shoulders, “I know why you couldn't but still. “

“It's okay now. Agron and I have talked about it,” Nasir smiles faintly, “I trust him. He told me to just break it off and he'd take care of it.”

“Take care of it? Are we in the mafia now? Is Caesar going to wake up tomorrow with a horse head in his bed?” Chadara laughs, rolling her eyes. “Agron would totally be Sonny though. You know there is a whole section in the first chapter of that book that talks about how big his cock is.”

“If the jock fits,” Nasir mutters, a secret little grin taking over his face. 

“We are not living in The Godfather,” Pietros pushes her shoulder, shaking his curly head, “And who is going to be Michael? Spartacus?”

They dissolve into light conversation displaced with giggles, placing each of their friends in the roles of the movie franchise. Nasir has to wonder if they're not mafia like though, in some regards. There is a strange relationship going on between Agron, Spartacus, and Crixus – a type of gang mentality. They look out for their own, and though Nasir has only caught glimpses of it here and there, it is clear that in this mafia, Spartacus is the don with both Agron and Crixus being his second in command.

“Well, as much as I'd love to have Agron and I have some romantic get away in Italy,” Nasir sighs, “I don't think getting blow up in a car is the way I want to go out.”

“Probably not,” Chadara grins, “Death by too much dicking?”

“Scary and yet I'm turned on,” Nasir laughs, a blush staining his cheeks. “Wouldn't be the worst way to go.”

“I seriously need to see pics. I almost don't believe you,” Chadara smirks, “I mean, if I hadn't seen his print in his sweats-”

“I'm not showing you a picture of Agron's cock!” Nasir cries, reaching for his phone as if to protect the evidence. 

“Tripod,” Chadara sticks her tongue out at him. 

It's nice to be back to this – the type of teasing that comes from years of friendship. He can almost forget all about the months before, the time spent without these people – his family.

“When are you supposed to talk to Caesar?” Pietros twirls a piece of Nasir's soft hair around his finger, bringing the mood back to somber. 

“He's coming by for dinner,” Nasir sighs, leaning his head against Chadara's, “Probably around six.”

“Are you going to tell him over dinner?” Chadara asks, “Make him choke on it?”

“I don't know,” Nasir shrugs, the sudden realization of what he's about to do creeping up on him. “Look, you guys should get out of here. Take over the boxes to Barca's place.”

“Do you want us to hang out nearby? I mean, Barca and I can hide in my bedroom.” Pietros offers. He's afraid, scared for his friend. He's seen the way Caesar manipulates Nasir, and Nasir gives in – for his own safety and now for Agron's. 

“Nah.” Slipping out from under their hands, Nasir stretches, going for nonchalance. “I told Agron I'd call and check in when Caesar left.”

“Call him before, okay?” 

Pietros moves to pick up the box on the counter, pointing to the large suitcase in the hall. They linger in the doorway for a minute, staring back at Nasir. It's against their better interest to leave him, but there is little else they can do. Nasir has to make this stand on his own. 

“Be careful,” Chadara begs, smiling half-heartedly before slowly shutting the door 

Left alone in the apartment, Nasir turns on his heel. It looks so empty now that Pietros has taken nearly all the furniture. Those boxes were the last load of his stuff. Nasir should feel alone, abandoned, and yet the thick leather wrappings around his neck, charms cool to touch, are a welcome reminder. This is just the end of one part of his life and the beginning of another – one without pain and fear. 

 

\- - - 

 

“This is your brilliant cover plan?” Crixus asks around the thick meat of the hot dog, mustard oozing from the bun.

Agron takes a moment to suck the relish from his finger before replying. 

“Firemen have to eat. Hot dogs are the all American food.” 

“And we're not going to comment on the fact that you picked the most phallic food to eat before rushing in and saving your boyfriend?” Saxa raises an eyebrow. “Alright.”

“It's a good plan. We just hang out here until Caesar shows up,” Gannicus shrugs, sitting on the truck steps. “Then we send good ol' Crixus and Barca in to start a fire.”

“Agron rushes in, saves the day, and we all pretend we didn't just murder someone.” Saxa growls, rolling her eyes. 

“Technically, Agron is killing someone. We are accessories.” Spartacus chimes in, juggling two hot dogs and a bottle of Gatorade. 

“How about we not talk about this on the street?” Agron pipes up, slipping along the side of the truck to peer around it. 

They're stationed up a block, pulled over to get food. It's a normal guise - coming back from a call and pulling over for lunch. They all have their radios on, can report if they're needed elsewhere. Their position gives them the perfect vantage point of the front of Nasir's building, taking casual shifts to look up the street for Caesar's silver car. 

“Any sign of him?” Crixus moves to stand next to Agron, zipping up his hoodie in the cool air. 

“Not yet,” Agron waves his phone half heartedly, “Nasir said he'd text too.”

“You know,” Crixus begins, crossing his large arms across his chest, “I'm not doing this for you.”

Agron turns to look at him, mouth set in a grim line. If he's going to back out of this, Agron needs to know now. 

“When Spartacus and you first came over,” Crixus continues, “I didn't want to help you. Why would I want to possibly ruin my life and my career to save your piece of ass. But Nasir deserves more than that. He's a good kid and that Caesar guy is a fucking creep.”

“Thank you,” Agron nods, taking it solemnly. Crixus and his relationship can be called complicated at best. Any small sign of friendship is taken with gratitude but a grain of salt.

“And Naevia told me either I came and I helped you or she would.” Crixus laughs a little. “I figured sending my nine month pregnant wife to start a fire wasn't a good idea.”

“Scary thing is, she would do it,” Agron smirks, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, she would. She loves that boy of yours,” Crixus nods, “He's grown on me too. I just hope that when this is all over, you're going to be a man about everything.”

“What are you saying?” Agron feels a creeping fear beginning to grow in his gut, a realization of sorts. 

“I just meant,” Crixus hesitates, glancing at Agron out of the corner of his eye, “who's to say that Nasir is going to want to be with you when this is all over? I mean, he's never been single before, right? He will be once Caesar is gone, and what's he going to think when he finds out what you did?”

“He did all of this for me, to save me, and I'm doing this for him – so he won't have to live in constant fear of Caesar.” Agron scoffs, shaking his head. “He'll see what I did, I did for him, and forgive me.”

“Yeah, but does he want to be with Agron the hero or Agron the murderer?”

Crixus pats him on the back, pushing off from the truck to go back and join the others, just as a silver car pulls into place before Nasir's building. 

 

\- - - 

 

Nasir can barely breathe as he swings his apartment door open, false smile pulling so hard on his cheeks they ache. Caesar is wearing a suit without a tie, collar open. He looks so casual, holding a bundle of roses and a lazy smirk, confident in his stance. It droops just a little as his eyes scan Nasir's face, taking in the long side braid laying across his shoulder. 

“You didn't cut your hair.” He says as way of greeting, shoving into the apartment. “I ask you to do something and you disobey me. I thought we were past this. Why do you always antagonize me?”

“I'm sorry,” Nasir mumbles, dropping his head, submitting on instinct. He feels his phone buzz in his palm, and while Caesar's back is turned, tilts the screen up to read Agron's message. 

_Be strong. I love you._

“Where is all your shit?” Caesar wrinkles his nose as he looks around the mostly empty apartment.

“Pietros moved in with Barca. I gave him most of it.” Nasir replies, shutting the door. He pads barefoot further into the room, lingering halfway between the living room and kitchen. Nasir has to keeps the mantra of Agron's words in his head, finding strength to lift his head up from the floor – make a stand.

Scanning him again, Caesar tosses the flowers onto the counter, and moves towards Nasir – stalks him like a predator. It brings an itch to the back of Nasir's mind - _Run_ it screams and he has to fight not to listen. Caesar's fingers curl in the braid, pulling Nasir's head back just enough so Caesar can press his mouth firmly and unrelenting against Nasir's slack one. If he notices, Caesar doesn't concern himself with it, takes more from the kiss than Nasir is willing to give – shoving his tongue roughly against the thick seam of Nasir's lips. 

“What are you doing?” Caesar bites out, eyes narrowing, “Nasir, I'm not in the mood for you to be difficult.”

“I need to talk to you,” Nasir mumbles, steeling himself against what he's sure Caesar next words are going to be. 

“Do you?” Caesar scoffs, “And what do you have to say? Another one of your pathetic attempts at being a man? Standing up for yourself? There is no use, Nasir. You're meant to be mine.”

Pulling himself away, Nasir moves into the safety of the kitchen. He needs to create space, give himself enough room that if he needs to run, he can. Even the preparations for Caesar's abuse just cement his resolve further – he doesn't have to live like this anymore. Never again. Feeling the thick cords against his throat, Nasir tangles his fingers in them, grounding himself. 

“Is that-” Caesar starts, teeth curving into a dangerous scowl.

“I don't want to be with you.” 

Nasir blurts it out, voice cracking a little but firm. It's a strange weight, shifting on his chest – a mix of elation and fear. Caesar's expression doesn't shift, but he moves forward a few steps. It must be an illusion – Brooklyn's poor apartment design – that makes it seem like Caesar grows – takes up more space, intimidation factor. 

He forgets that Nasir has seen Agron do the same thing and his effect is much more unsettling. It's strange almost how Agron can go from big to huge just a shifting of a his shoulders, a widening of his stance. Nasir has seen it up close and personal, and though Caesar's attempt is valid, it dims in comparison to Agron's. 

“What?” Caesar spits, slamming his hand down on the counter. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Before he can stop himself or really control it, a giggle bursts from inside him, and Nasir can't tamp it down when he answers. It's the product of months of fear and the final breaking point, combined into Nasir's recklessness.

“I don't want to be with you. I hate you, Caesar, I really fucking do. All you've ever done is hurt me and the ones I care about, and I don't want to ever see you again.”

Elation, fucking freedom pulled from his ribs and along his spine. Nasir feels weightless, as if he's floating off the ground. All the words he kept so closed off, the truth he always wanted to tell Caesar but never had the strength. He feels like some warrior, finally slashing the final blow. He feels strong, powerful even, and Nasir wonders if this is how Agron and Spartacus feel – godly.

“You're a fucking monster,” Nasir continues, “An greedy, abusive leech that pries on the weakness of others. I never loved you, not really. You just manipulated me into staying with you. That's all it ever was.”

Nasir shifts his weight, gaining momentum. It's like the first words were just the cracking of the damn and suddenly it's all coming out – pouring over him like water. Cleansing him of months lying and fear. He wants to cause him pain, hurt Caesar in some way – even if it's just with words. He deserves it, should feel some cut from all the time 

“Your confidence makes you a fucking idiot. This whole time that you thought you were so in control, had made me miserable, Agron and I were fucking all over the place. And he's good, _so fucking good_ , knows just what I need. He's a million times the man you ever will be.” Nasir boasts, grin turning a little crazed as Caesar's twisting grimace, scowl turning sharp at the edges. “You remember when we were together and you went away for that business trip to California?”

Caesar's eyes track Nasir as he steps forward, drawing in close so he can whisper the words against Caesar's cheek. His stomach twists as he sees it, the glint of triumph in Nasir's eyes, as if he thinks he's won some sort of battle. 

“Agron fucked me on your bed,” Nasir taunts, lips brushing Caesar's cheek, “All weekend, and I cried and moaned and begged him to do it. I didn't think of you once, not for a single moment. I never did.”

“You clearly don't remember who you are talking to.” Caesar moves forward again and suddenly the giddy fear inside of Nasir comes to a full stop, choked out by his next words. “Let me remind you.”

The punch is hard, filling Nasir's mouth with blood from his teeth in cheek, head slamming back into the cabinet behind him. Before he can move, Caesar is there, hitting him again. The blow knocks Nasir to the side, smacking his hip on the counter as he doubles over from the pain. He tries to reach out and hit Caesar back, defend himself like both Spartacus and Agron has taught him, but he misses, eyes dazed from the abuse, and instead collapses against the sink. 

“This is the fucking last straw,” Caesar shouts, back handing Nasir again. The smack resounds through the apartment, sharp clap of skin on skin and Nasir's whimpered cry, trying to hide his face from Caesar. 

“You think I'm going to put up with this anymore? Your fucking whoring around? Like I'm your bitch?” Caesar kicks him hard, knocks Nasir onto the tile floor. “You're mine! And I will remind you of this before I make sure that fucking cunt knows too.”

Laying there on the linoleum, Nasir notices the curls of smoke pouring up from under the front door. It's subtle almost, gaining thickness as the moments continue, Caesar's voice screaming above him. His expensive leather shoes catch Nasir's ribs, but he's numb, falling to press his cheek to the cool tile – only it's not cool. It's warm, almost hot, and in the back of his mind, it pulls something out of his memory stalk – something Agron once said to him about buildings and work.

_”You'd be surprise how many people ignore the signs of their house being on fire. If the floor is hot or you're coughing, you have a problem.”_

“Fuck,” Nasir gasps, hands slapping on the tile as he tries to crawl from the kitchen. 

Caesar's thick shoe slams into his shoulders though, forcing Nasir down flat. Distantly, he thinks he hears the wailing of a siren, but in New York, it's a common thing. Nasir flails under his foot, still trying to crawl, and it forces Caesar down, knees on either side of his waist. 

“I'm going to fuck you,” Caesar hisses into Nasir's ear, holding his head up by his hair, “and remind you who is your-”

He is cut off as the front door suddenly bursts open, shaking so hard into the wall that it leaves a sizeable chunk missing, plaster falling to dust under the force. Flames pour in around the buckling wood, intense heat curling the paint just around the doorframe, and from the fire steps someone. 

Through blurry eyes, wet with pain and fear, Nasir can see the hulking form of the fire fighter. He knows that set of shoulders anywhere, Agron tossing his helmet to the side. Through the haze, Nasir wonders idly if this were some action movie, if this would be the climax. Agron bursting in to save the damsel in distress, sword held high, and a ferocious snarl pulling his face back. He looks like a wolf, green eyes sickly illuminated in the glowing embers of Nasir's apartment building's fire. 

“Agron!” Nasir gasps, only having the strength to raise his fingers from the floor. 

“You.”

Agron's voice is not his own, deeper and more severe. It is the growl of a man that has come to his limits, and is no longer to hold back the beast the lives inside of him. He's not even sure how he gets across the room, but he does and his fist catches Caesar's nose with all his strength, feeling the tendons pop and crack under his knuckles. 

Falling back, Caesar hits the kitchen counter, screaming in anguish as blood gushes from his ruined face. He tries to hit Agron back, defend himself or at very best block, but the next hit catches him straight in the throat and he's rendered breathless. 

“I have been waiting a long time for this.” Agron growls, wrapping one palm easily around Caesar's throat as he picks him, expensive leather shoes dangling above the floor. 

“Wait.”

Nasir has managed to turn around, fingers twisted in Agron's pants. He doesn't have the strength to stand yet, wind knocked out of him from Caesar's perfectly placed kicks. 

“Nasir,” Agron glances down at him, grip still firm around Caesar's throat.

“The apartment is on fire.” Nasir wheezes, staring up at Agron with wide eyes. He's not scared though, no, a sense of determination hardening his usually soft features. 

“We still have time.” Agron reassures, thumb pressing harder into Caesar's windpipe when he tries to wiggle away. “Let me inflict a little more pain.”

“No,” Nasir coughs, large eyes staring up at Agron, watering. 

“Would you rather me snap his neck? Quick death for this fuck?” Agron's teeth are sharp as the growl in Caesar's face, reaching to hit him hard in the chest – Caesar helplessly wheezing.

“No,” Nasir shakes his head, tugging tighter on the gray fabric. “I want him to burn. I want him to feel it.”

Agron laughs, a cruel and bitter sound that bounces around the apartment. And what a turn of events – Nasir's strength shining. With a forceful shove, Agron easily tosses Caesar back into the cabinets, his head bouncing like a deflating basketball. He crumples down, eyes dazed but still awake, staring up at them with blood pouring from his nose. 

Kneeling before him, Agron grips Caesar's chin between thick fingers. 

“I hope you feel every single moment of your death, and know that you will not be missed or remembered. I will make sure Nasir forgets you and never fears your name again.”

Turning, he slips his jacket down his arms and wraps it around Nasir, protecting his bare arms from the cruel fire, before easily lifting him into Agron's arms. Due to Nasir's barely wheezing breath, Agron can't put him in a normal firemen's carry, so he has to cradle him like a tiny bride, keeping him close and protected in his jacket. Stepping out of the apartment, Agron is just about to head towards the stair when Nasir's gasp stops him. 

“Wait,” Prying the engagement ring from his finger, Nasir tosses it towards Caesar, who is trying to crawl across the floor. Blood has flowed onto his white starched shirt, staining the front of it in a large red glob.

Reaching around Agron, Nasir's fingers curl over the doorknob, the heated metal burning his fingers excruciatingly. The smell of singed flesh fills his nose, but Nasir ignores it – just for this moment – just for the final satisfaction. He makes sure he has Caesar's attention, he gaze firm, before slamming the front door in his face, lock slipping into place with a loud thump.

“It always sticks.” Nasir murmurs to Agron, hiding his face in Agron's broad chest. Agron laughs a little, amazed at the small man in his arms, before turning away from the cursed place and the man inside. 

The smoke chokes at Agron's eyes and Nasir's scratched throat, chest barely being able to expand because of it. Loud pops and cracks sound around them, the building already beginning to buckle under the force of the fire. Crixus and Barca did a good job setting it, starting in the basement so Agron would have enough time to get Nasir out before the building goes under. 

Heading down the steps, Agron can barely see, foolishly having thrown his helmet off in rage when he had seen Caesar on top of Nasir. Luckily, he has run up and down these stairs enough that he knows his way, keeping Nasir cradled against him so he won't get burnt. 

A lot of the first floor is already buckling as Agron runs from the stairs onto it, heading towards the front. The house is eerily silent except for the roar of the fire, no screams or wails, and it reassures Agron that Saxa and Gannicus have gotten everyone out, Ludo and Donar ready with the hoses outside. The plan has worked, gone flawlessly. He can barely see, tears streaming down his face, but Spartacus has kept his word and he's holding the front door open as the pair burst through it. 

“Medic!” Agron croaks, feeling Nasir's wheezy coughs vibrate against his own chest and then stop, choking on air. 

Rushing towards him, the EMTs take Nasir out his arms, leading him towards an ambulance as Agron stumbles to follow. He's still got a hold of Nasir's fingertips when they load him onto the stretcher, attention stolen as a loud boom sounds across the frantic street, cries ringing out from the onlooking crowd. 

Through his smoke filled eyes, Nasir looks past Agron just as his building – his home – collapses in on itself. A pile of broken wood still blazing in the setting sun, six floors now ground level, sparks spilling out into the street. 

“He's gone.” Nasir whispers, finding Agron's green eyes through all the smoke, before darkness surrounds him and he can't see anymore. 

 

\- - - 

 

Nasir dreams of fire. 

Of heat on his back and face. 

Of strong hands on his chest, holding him down.

Of burning. 

And then cool relief. 

He plunges into the sea, the color sweeping over him. Swirling emeralds, jades,and chartreuse. And there is someone calling to him, sweetest voice he's ever heard, like a siren song. It tells him to hold on, to keep going.

Whispers of destiny unfolding. 

Then a soft caress against his forehead speckled by flashing white lights and harsh, whispered foreign words. 

German. 

German hissed back and forth. Angry.

And the beeping. 

Continuous and steady. 

But the cool touch is still on his face. 

_Come back to me._

_Nasir_

_Wake up._

__

 

\- - - 

 

Nasir opens his eyes, blinking against the afternoon sunlight. It streams through the large window on the right wall, pale yellow curtains pulled back. It takes him until he notices the beeping machine next to him to realize he must be in the hospital. 

Tentative fingers touch his cheeks, looking for an injury. There is an oxygen tube in his nose, blowing too clean air. It aches in his lungs and makes him itch for a cigarette, but he doubts that's going to be allowed. 

Turning to the right, Nasir is surprised to see Agron sitting in a chair next to him. He's tipped back awkwardly, too tall for the chair, his shoulders spill out past the wood. There are dark circles under his eyes and he has his own IV sticking out of his arm, but he looks comfy. The only noise in the room aside the machine is his soft snores, mouth open just a little. 

A well of affection and concern bubble up in Nasir's chest. This man, his man, saved his life. Always the hero and he's here. He's here and they're okay. They're finally free. Tears gather in his eyes and before he can stop himself, Nasir is sobbing. 

The noise alerts Agron, jerking him awake. He blinks around confused for a minute before standing, pulling Nasir into his arms. He's careful of the smaller man's chest, cradling him but not too tight. 

“Hey baby boy,” Agron soothes, “What's wrong?”

“I don't even know,” Nasir sputters, holding onto Agron, “I just-”

“It's okay,” Agron kisses his cheek, “I'm right here.”

“You always are,” Nasir whispers, pulling back a little to settle among the pillows. 

Agron sinks back into the chair, sighing heavily. His body is also sore, but he argued with the nurses so much they allowed him to sit beside Nasir. He had to promise if he got too tired he'd lay in the free bed behind him, but Agron needed this – needed to be close to Nasir. 

“We need to talk,” Agron reaches out to gently take Nasir's hand in his own. His palms are smaller, fingers thinner and sharp. 

“Okay.” Nasir knows it's true, even if he's dreading the words. 

“Nasir,” Agron takes a deep breath before continuing, “What happened in the apartment was all planned out.”

Dark eyes scan his face, Nasir's mind calculating the information, but he doesn't stop him.

“When I sent you home with Auctus and Duro, I already knew that I was going to kill Caesar. I just couldn't let it get back to him that I had caused a scene at the club. So when you left with them, I went in and got Asher.” Agron pauses on the next words, fingers curling tighter between Nasir's.

“I strangled him and dumped his body at Coney Island. The cops chalked it up to a suicide. I knew he had been threatening you and spying on you and he deserved it. He really fucking did.”

Nasir draws in a sharp breath, eyes widening, but he doesn't say anything. Can't seem to find words. 

“I went to Spartacus after, needed advice on how I was going to do this. I needed to find a way to kill Caesar without any of the blame being traced back to you. I didn't have a choice anymore, Nasir. He was never going to quit. It was a choice of killing him or finding out he killed you.”

Wiping at his lips a little, Nasir says the next words slowly, half disbelief and half fear. 

“You set the fire.”

Hearing it like that, the truth, just reconfirms everything that Agron had feared. Crixus was right. His actions, no matter how heroic, had altered Nasir's perception of him. Nasir knows what Agron has done, and the worst part is, Agron doesn't regret it. He would kill Caesar over and over again in millions of ways if it meant that Nasir would be free from it. 

“The plan was for Crixus and Barca to start an electrical fire in the basement. Your building was old and it wouldn't appear suspicious. When Barca came over earlier to help Pietros move some boxes, he disabled your fire alarms. The rest of the building would be evacuating and you and Caesar wouldn't notice anything going on. 

When we got on the scene, Gannicus, Saxa, and I were to run in. They took the top floors and bottom, just routine checking, and I was to head straight to your apartment. We all knew the cover story was that Caesar locked himself in the apartment and I never knew because I found you in the hallway.

You were out of it, couldn't breathe, so there was no way you could tell me someone else was inside. I didn't know. It was an accident and Caesar would die among the flames. You'd be free, finally out of his control.”

Agron waits with bated breath as Nasir takes in the information. He doesn't pull away from Agron, but he doesn't raise his eyes from his blanket either. It's so quiet in the hospital room, just that stupid machine beeping, and Agron has never been this scared before. If Nasir pushes him away now, Agron isn't sure he'll be able to handle the blow. 

“You risked your life, and the lives of your family and friends, for me?” Nasir asks finally, picking at a loose thread. 

“There is nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for you, Nasir,” Agron vows, gently raising Nasir's head, “And it's because of this that I can't be with you.”

“What?” Nasir's wet eyes widen, fingers curling tighter in Agron's, “No! You can't do this to me! You promised-”

“Nasir,” Agron coos, moving to sit beside him on the bed, holding Nasir's face between his palms. “Hush now and hear me out.”

“No! You hear me out,” Nasir cries desperately, fisting his hands in Agron's shirt, “I love you. I've loved you for so long and you risked everything for me and now you want to cast me aside? Ask me to turn away from you? Please don't send me away.”

“I don't want to send you away or for you to find someone new or anything like that,” Agron murmurs, guiding Nasir's head up to look at him. 

“Nasir, I murdered two men. In cold blood. And I would do it again. I'm not...I'm not stable right now. You said once you were afraid of my anger, my fury, and this proves that your concern wasn't unfounded. I am dangerous, a dangerous person to be around now. 

And you. This is the first time you've been single, out from under Caesar's thumb, you should have the choice of who and what you want to be and be with. Spartacus already told me you could have the empty apartment down the hall from Duro and me. Set up your life, get back into tattooing and art, and let's start over. Not all the way, but let's be friends, let's hang out, and when things feel right and we're ready, then we can take it to another stage.”

“But I love you,” Nasir whispers, “I don't want you to forget about me, move on.”

“That's never going to happen,” Agron shakes his head, “I'm in too deep. No one else will do.”

Using their joined hands to wipe away the tears under his eyes, Nasir sighs, sad but resigned. 

“You have to promise me something, Agron, really promise me.” 

“Anything,” Agron nods, kissing the tears from his knuckles. 

Nasir lets Agron pull him closer, kiss his trembling lips and nuzzles his nose in an Eskimo kiss. It's sweet but it hurts but having him further away hurts Nasir even more. He wants him here but he also understands the reason and it's all so confusing but bright. 

Agron breathes against Nasir's mouth for a few moments, sucking in his scent and the knowledge that this war is over. This battle has been fought and won and they can be free – growing and learning together. 

“Promise me that we're going to be happy again. That we'll be back to how we were when there was happiness and my chest didn't feel like it was being ripped open.”

Meeting Nasir's gaze, Agron smiles, dimples pulling through. 

“I promise you, Nasir. One day soon, there will be sunshine and happiness and we will be back to being in love and complete. Don't think of this as an end but a new beginning.”

“Like a country song?” 

Agron kisses Nasir one last time, chaste and sweet, fitting his lips against Nasir's like pieces of a puzzle. 

“Just like a country song.”

**Author's Note:**

> go read the epilogue ;D


End file.
